


Whimsical Viridity

by Lizzie Phantomhive (orphan_account)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Flogging, Fluff, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Trauma, Willow Switching, cielizzie, cielizzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lizzie%20Phantomhive
Summary: Lizzie usually acts very shy while in public. One day, Ciel finds that she is acting like herself, and watches her go home with a smile on her face. As time passes, Lizzie returns to his manor's doorstep in the worst condition he's ever seen her in.





	1. Chapter 1

_ I’ve always been fascinated with the stealing of innocence. _

_ It’s the most heinous crime, _

_ and  _ **_certainly_ ** _ a capital crime if there ever was one. _

* * *

 

The daylight chatter of London was akin to the noise a flock of birds made when they flew overhead to some unknown destination. Women gossiped, men made inappropriate remarks, and life continued as it always had. A young earl made his way down the street with his fiancee, whose elbow was locked with his. Indeed, it appeared almost tragic that someone of this age had to take on the duty of being Earl of Phantomhive. And it appeared that one of the day’s many chores happened to be escorting his to-be-wife through the crowded streets of London. Though it seemed both of them were too quiet. They rather just enjoyed each other’s company. 

Ciel Phantomhive was a boy with an elusive aura, almost mysterious, and whenever he turned his back, it was the talk of the crowd. Even though most said he would look good in paler colours, everyone found that when they adorned his thin physique, light colours didn’t go well at all. With cerulean hair and eyes that could make a girl melt, his fiance always seemed satisfied with being by his side, even if the boy was usually accompanied by a tall man, a butler clad in black.

Sebastian Michaelis’s aura was even darker than Ciel’s, so much so that even Ciel’s fiance couldn’t stand it. Though he was handsome—women and even men found themselves swooning over him. But Ciel’s fiance never understood why. Every time he was with them, Sebastian would have to walk behind them or she would get uncomfortable. Sebastian guessed that the Midfords all had a sense to detect the inhuman, because Elizabeth was usually oblivious. It could also just be that she was raised in a family that downplays their servants, though.

Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford was the only one out of all three that didn’t seem like she was hiding something. A girl with platinum blonde curls and viridescent eyes, her personality always seemed like it would be bouncy and in your face. However, in public, that was not the case. Always clutched in thin fingers was a book with a lock keeping it from prying eyes. She kept her hair in childish pigtails, and a gentle, fragile smile upon lips that appeared glossed. She was timid, almost shy, and yet Ciel never asked why. It just always seemed like an odd question to bring up suddenly. He asked once, but Lizzie stood quiet for a long time, before changing the subject. She brushed it off as her short attention span, but Ciel felt like there was more to it, and if she didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t force her to.

Lizzie stopped him abruptly, taking her arm from his and rubbing his shoulder to grab his attention. When she got it, she smiled and pointed to the flower stand that they always passed by. “Look, Ciel.” She said softly. “She has camellia blossoms this time.”

“Ah, yes, isn’t that your favorite flower?” Ciel asked, taking her arm into his again and leading her toward the flower shop. The woman, brown hair with streaks of grey, as age had caught up with her, smiled at the young couple. 

“Earl Phantomhive, Lady Elizabeth.” The woman nodded to them respectively. “What would you like to get for the young lady today?”

Lizzie watched Ciel gesture to the pale flowers, and she felt her heart bubble. “Two of those blossoms, they’re my lady’s favorites.” 

“Ah, that’s good to know, I’ll bring them in more often now.” The woman gently pulled them from the bunch, trimming the stems. She was about to wrap them, before Ciel waved her off.

“No, it’s quite alright.” Ciel took the flowers and turned to Lizzie. “Elizabeth.” He tilted her chin up so that she wasn’t staring at the cobblestone, and gently placed the blossoms into both of her pigtails. The girl’s cheeks began to redden, before she squeaked and covered her mouth. Ciel found a smile tug at the corners of his lips. “Ah, there she is, the girl that’s been hiding.”

The woman behind the stand found the scene unfolding before her absolutely adorable, and offered a third blossom to Lizzie, who took it with a “Thank you!” and gently pinned it to Ciel’s overcoat. “Both of you, take care!” She hummed. “Come again!”

Lizzie waved back at the woman as they began walking away. “Fare-thee-well!”

The girl was unable to stop chittering after that, contributing to the daylight chatter of London. The issue was that her voice happened to project above the rest of the crowd, as she talked about whatever jumped into her mind. Though it might’ve been a chore to keep up with her, he found it charming that she was acting more like herself and not the timid girl who stared at the ground the entire time he stared ahead. She took his hand, and laced her fingers with his, earning a blush from him. Her hands were warm, which balanced out his cold touch amazingly. He watched her lead him for the rest of the walk, never stopping. It was a delicate change in pace, as he usually found her pulling him back because she stopped to analyze a crack within the cobblestone beneath their feet. When she’s stared long enough, she’d either step over the crack, or right on it. He never knew why she was so careful to make sure she stepped on the crack, but again, never prodded. 

Elizabeth suddenly stopped talking, stopped moving, and stared at a tree that towered nearby, unblinking. Ciel followed her gaze, staring at the long, weeping branches of the trees that hung limp like whips. The leaves were turning a rich gold colour as autumn kissed London sweetly. It was a sallow, the same one that’s always been in this area. He’s seen it many times, but Lizzie was staring at it as if she’d never been this deep into the city before.

A carriage pulled up beside them, the beautiful white horses halting and whickering. They tossed their manes, and Lizzie, finally out of her stupor, went to rub their noses and coo at them gently. Paula opened the door and smiled at Lizzie. “It’s time to return to your manor, my lady, your lessons will begin shortly.”

The girl turned and looked at Ciel lovingly, a familiar electricity dancing within her green eyes that made Ciel’s heart squeeze. He gently took her hand, brushing his lips over the back of her knuckles, and smiled. “I will see you soon, my lady.” He hummed, enjoying the bright pink hue playing at her cheeks at the gesture.

“G...goodbye Ciel!” She stammered out, her cheeks redder as she curtseyed and practically ran inside the carriage. 

Ciel watched as the door shut, and sighed contently. Grasping his cane in his right palm, he turned and began making his way back to his own carriage, Sebastian catching up to walk next to the boy. “Now that Lady Elizabeth isn’t here, shall we continue on the case?” Sebastian asked. Ciel took the papers from Sebastian and reviewed what they knew.

“Yes. Now let’s see, people are beginning to call the murderer ‘Miss Marionette’.” Ciel began.

* * *

 

_ The human race tends to remember the abuses _

_ to which it has been subjected rather than the endearments. _

_ What’s left of kisses? _

_ Wounds, however,  _ **_leave scars._ **

* * *

 

The sunset couldn’t be seen tonight, only known, as the grey skies grew darker. Wind whistled and trees bristled as the servants ran around making sure every window was shut, so the oncoming rainstorm wouldn’t soak the inside of the mansion. Ciel sifted through his papers, his exposed eye soft with exhaustion. Today had certainly been a long day with no leads at all, the killer still at large. With a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, closing his eyes and allowing his chin to rest on his chest. He could rest, after all, what else did he do? A crash of thunder startled him awake, and the rain began pouring intensely. 

A few minutes after, he heard a door slam as he presumed Finny ran in from the storm.

He started to work again, dripping wax onto an envelope and then stamping his insignia into the red. The rain continued, seeming to grow heavier as the minutes passed, until a knock came to the door that belonged to his study. “Young master, it appears Lady Elizabeth has come for a visit.”

Ciel stood up. “At this time? In this weather? What the devil is she thinking?” 

“That’s just it, I don’t think she is in the best of conditions right now, she’s calling for you but even I barely heard her voice above the rain.”

What Sebastian had said was an understatement. Ciel practically ran from his study to the doors, pushing them open and trying to steel his gut for whatever he was about to see. Elizabeth stood there, soaked to the bone, wearing a dress that wasn’t even properly put on. Her porcelain skin was bruised, as was the light in her eyes. But what was worse of all, were the bloodstains clinging to the light material of the dress she wore. Along her stomach, along her back, blood and bruises were everywhere. Lizzie was weeping, like the willow they saw in London earlier.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Sometimes you must seem to hurt something _

_ in order to do good for it. _

* * *

 

A woman made her way down the street, adorned in regal shades of browns and burgundies. Her hair was a shade of grey, as though she had grown past the others. However, her facial features only spoke her age as her late thirties. Her red lips were pulled into a frown, eyes trained ahead. Neck tall, and shoulders down, she spoke in her own shade of royalty just from her posture. As she made her way past a flower stand, the woman found herself drawn to the vibrant colours, especially at the season’s time, when the only colours around were the soft yellows and dull oranges. The woman behind the stand curtseyed at her appearance. “Hello, my lady Frances.”

“Hello,” she responded, voice soft. It had undertones of a very strict ideology. 

“It has been quite some time. Have you come to buy a rose, for old time’s sake?” The woman behind the stand began plucking a red rose from the rest, trimming the rose thorns off the stem. Frances smiled.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I saw your girl with her fiance earlier. Adorable they were.” The woman wrapped the rose’s stem in paper that complimented the flower’s petals perfectly.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed, the boy bought two of them camellia blossoms and pinned them into her pigtails, and she was acting all bubbly afterwards, going on and on about who knows what. I thought the girl was speaking in tongues as they walked away. It was a nice shift in personality, the little daffodil is always staring at the ground and only makes a noise when she is being addressed.” The woman trailed off, noticing a change in Frances’s demeanor. Not saying another word, Frances took the flower from the flower shop owner, nodded to her, and left.

* * *

 

_ Tough love may be tough to give, _

_ but it is a  _ **_necessity_ ** _ of life and _

_ assurance of  _ **_positive growth._ **

* * *

 

Frances allowed her servant to open the carriage door, using her hands to lift her skirt as she stepped down from the opening. Making her way up the path that led to the entrance, it seemed she could barely hide the anger in her crystal blue eyes. The doors were opened to her, and she stepped inside her manor. Turning to Paula, Frances spoke sharply. “Retrieve Elizabeth immediately.”

“Right away, mistress.” Paula responded, bowing her head, and then turning to find the girl. Frances waited patiently for Lizzie to come down. 

Eventually, Elizabeth did come. The girl curtseyed with a soft smile playing at her lips. “Hello, mother.” 

There was a long pause, and it made Elizabeth look up, confusion and fear in her green eyes. Frances spoke up, confirming the girl’s anxiety. “Cut the longest branch on the willow tree.” She said, so sharply it took Elizabeth a moment to process.

“W-why?” She squeaked, standing up straight and clasping her hands together. “Mother I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Frances sneered at the girl’s pleading, ignoring the stares coming from her son and husband. “You were unprecedented in public. It’s no wonder that fiance of yours sees nothing in you, with the way you act.” 

Elizabeth froze up, tears streaking down her cheeks. Black make-up began staining the once pale skin. She turned away, training her eyes on the floor, and beginning to make her way towards the garden. 

Alexis walked up to his wife, his face fixed into an unpleasant expression, as if the scene about to take place had left a bad taste in his mouth. “Frances, this is a bit much, the girl was just happy, why do you insist on stealing away her childhood?” 

“Let me raise my children, Alexis, or so help me…” She stared into in his eyes, clenching her jaw when he did the same.

“They’re our children.” He replied sternly. “I get a say in how they’re disciplined as much as you do.” 

A feeble voice interrupted their argument. The girl was standing next to the stairs, eyes turned to the ground, holding the willow switch she’d cut. “Mother…” 

“You were to wait beside the rock!” Frances snapped, grabbing one of Elizabeth’s pigtails. The girl cried out in pain as she began fighting against her mother’s strength. The woman only grabbed Elizabeth’s hair at a different angle, and pulled her out to the garden. Edward and Alexis followed, watching from a distance as Frances pushed Elizabeth down to the ground beside the rock. Slowly staring up to meet her mother’s gaze, Frances ignored the tears that stained her cheeks. Taking the switch from Elizabeth, Frances had a servant undo her daughter’s corset and upper layers. Tying the girl’s wrists to the rock, the servant then nodded her head and walked off, not wanting to see the scene that was about to unfold.

Lifting one hand above her head, Frances brought it down sharply. A scream echoed through the garden as Elizabeth’s entire body jolted. The skin was red for a few moments, before blood began to seep from the jagged cut. “A lady does not act out in public.” Frances began her lecture, and Alexis decided it was time for both him and his son to look away. They retreated into the manor, but it didn’t do much to muffle Elizabeth’s shrill screams of agony; lash after lash she screamed, the cries for help ripping from her throat like a bird singing its last song. Three lashes, and the last blossom in Lizzie’s hair tumbled out. When it hit the ground, it shattered into a bunch of individual pedals. The wind began to pick up, and the skies were a dark grey, but Frances continued her punishment nonetheless, unconcerned. With each lashing came a degrading phrase. “A lady does not eat so much, a lady does not play, a lady is to be seen and not heard.” 

The rock was stained with the blood of the sacrificial lamb when Frances decided that the punishment was enough. Elizabeth was released from the shackles, and the woman took the girl by the hand to help her up. Her daughter flinched and shoved away from her mother. Frances, astonished by this, reacted with her reflex instead of thought, and she backhanded Lizzie. The girl fell to her knees and a bruise began forming where she had been struck. Frances realized what she had done, but Lizzie was already standing up and staggering away. Breaking into a run, Lizzie rushed into the house, Frances in hot pursuit. Lizzie slammed and locked her door, and Frances began pounding on it. “Elizabeth! Come out!” The girl pulled on a dress from her closet, making a vain attempt to tie the ribbons herself, but finding she was unable to, she left it be and searched for a way out that wouldn’t involve leaving through her bedroom door. Lizzie tore the sheets off her bed, tied them together, and then to her bedpost. Tossing the make-shift rope out the window, Lizzie began climbing down. Frances banged the door open finally, and ran to the window to see Lizzie jump down and make a run for it. Leaving out the room, running to the front door, Lizzie had already ran down the dirt path that led to London. Frances couldn’t chase, so she just watched her daughter disappear into the black skies.

A gust of wind carried Frances back inside. Rubbing her temples, she decided that the girl would be forced back home due to the coming storm.

* * *

 

_ If you build the guts to do something, _

_ anything,  _

_ then you better save enough to face the consequences. _

* * *

 

Lizzie was exhausted by the time she made her way into the streets of London, which were practically empty from the oncoming storm. She was exhausted, and lightheaded from the amount of blood she had lost, hugging herself to hide from the cold, she staggered down the cobblestone path, stepping on every crack she found. The wind tore through her, causing her wounds to sting horribly. She choked back a soft sob, tripping over her own feet and collapsing to the ground. Trembling, she pushed herself against a nearby wall, but found that her back stung too much to lean against it. Her dress clung to her wounds, which made her whimper quietly. She didn’t know how long she had been in that street, but eventually a carriage stopped in front of her. A man, perhaps in his early thirties, had seen her. He opened the door and leaned out. His forehead was wrinkled, and his face adorned a mustache and beard that connected to his sideburns. Putting his top hat on, he stepped out of the carriage to help Lizzie up. “My Lord, aren’t you Marquess Alexis’s girl? What the bloody Hell happened?” She shook her head, not wanting to talk, or even breathe. “Let’s get you back home, my Lady.”

“No! Please!” Lizzie suddenly cried. “Anything but that, please bring me to the Phantomhive estate!” 

The man seemed surprised, his eyes widened slightly, but he nodded and helped her inside the carriage. Getting in, he asked his driver to set a course for the Phantomhive manor, and the rest of the ride he didn’t ask anymore questions. “There seems to be a storm stirring up. I’m glad I caught you when I did.”

“Thank you so much, sir…” She whispered, hugging herself. Outside, they heard a crash of thunder, and the rain began pouring hard. “I’m so sorry…”

“Nevermind that, my horses never get scared from hard weather.”

The ride ended soon after. The door was opened for Lizzie, and she stepped out of the carriage. Knees shaking, she stumbled up the path to Ciel’s doors. “Ciel…” She called hoarsely. 

She didn’t get far until Finny cried out in surprise and jumped down from the tree to help her. “My lady, what on Earth are you doing out here?! What happened to you?! Please wait here.” He left and ran towards the doors, opening them, then slamming them shut.

Lizzie sank to her knees, unable to stand up any longer. “...Ciel…” She croaked, louder this time. Soon, Finny came back and helped Lizzie up. Leading her towards the doors, he held her up as the doors opened to reveal Ciel. He had messy hair, as if he’d been sleeping. Ciel was utterly horrified at what he saw. He took Lizzie from Finny and helped her inside, wiping away her tears. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes.

“Lizzie, what happened? Can you please tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

Lizzie barely parted her lips, her voice only an octave high. “M...mother...willow switched me…” She hiccuped and started sobbing again. Ciel was stunned into silence. 

_ Her own mother did this to her. _


End file.
